


seasons

by PunkHazard



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkHazard/pseuds/PunkHazard
Summary: What has always been a passing thought for Okoye crystallizes on her eighteenth birthday: that Wakanda is a nation of extremes.





	seasons

What has always been a passing thought for Okoye crystallizes on her eighteenth birthday: that Wakanda is a nation of extremes.

Although water is never scarce in the dry season, the land becomes parched, dry and rough as the skin of the beloved white rhinos that live on it. When the rains return, lightning and thunder thrashing quenched plains, grass and leaves return as well. Soft and pliant as the blankets her people treasure.

When she was chosen for the Dora Milaje: strength no less tempered than vibranium spears training alongside War Dogs whose resourcefulness could put a wily fox to shame. Her king’s ferocity as Black Panther, and his gentle love for his people. Prince T'challa’s boundless curiosity, obvious since he was a child– and his restrained, careful deliberation. Princess Shuri’s keen intellect, her audacious experiments; reverence for the Queen Mother, even as she lacks it for Wakandan traditions.

W'kabi’s perceptive adaptability, Okoye considers as she dips a piece of bread into the bowl of stew in front of her, so necessary to raising these finicky Border rhinos, and his stubborn, easily-provoked temper.

She leans back, regarding the heaving sides of the pregnant rhinoceros he’d rushed to assist. W'kabi first rolls a Kimoyo bead in his palm, touching it to the white rhino’s forehead and rubbing it down her snout, a mild analgesic to help her endure the pain of a breeched calf. He leaves the bead in place at the base of the rhino’s head, where it stays, and places another halfway down her spine, then another on her distended abdomen.

Stepping back to activate one last Kimoyo, W'kabi kisses his teeth at the hologram it projects.

Okoye has seen more white rhino births than she cares to count, and she dusts crumbs off her fingers as W'kabi attempts to turn the calf from afar, carefully maneuvering the holographic bead until the calf becomes stuck in place, no further progress to be made. She’s always been able to raise and protect her family’s rhinoceroses, but the leader’s son must understand every last aspect of their breeding and care, for the day he becomes leader himself– Wakandan technology makes it easy, but there are some things even he can’t escape.

The look on his face, when he turns to meet Okoye’s eyes, is too much for her. No opponent on a battlefield has ever made him look so defeated. Even a morning spent tracking and dispatching a group of poachers did not leave him as tired. She laughs, standing while he shrugs out of his blanket and shirt, leaving them in a haphazard pile.

“You are enjoying this far too much,” W'kabi grumbles, retrieving a rope tied to his belt.

She hands him a small tin of oil, useful for polishing spears but just as effective for manually assisting rhino births– meting life and death in equal measure. “This,” Okoye agrees, beaming as she accepts the end of the rope he passes her, “is the highlight of my day.”


End file.
